Apologies and Eggs
by Event Horizon-Argus Black
Summary: Interactions between Snake and Sunny with MGS4 Spoilers & 1 violent reference. ...If there was a hell, it would be occupied by Liquid and plates and plates of fried eggs. Eggs were the last thing on his mind and he told her so in the bluntest of terms.


Disclaimer: I do not own Metal Gear or any of its characters and I hope that's plainly apparent. I don't make any money off this. That's also apparent. Hideo Kojima owns everything, including my heart. :)  
My apologies if there are deviations from canon in the architecture of the Nomad. It's my _impression_ of the Nomad, that's all.  
Spoilers for MGS 4, Act 1.

**Apologies and Eggs**

The sound of Sunny's dejected footsteps trailed off, up the metal stairs in the Nomad. The staging area which doubled as an office, a recovery center, storage, a workshop and lab filled with tense silence. Had it been any other day, the old soldier would have simply shrugged off the death glares being leveled at him by his philanthropic partner, lit up a cigarette, and stretched his lean frame out over the canvas couch, flaunting his ambivalence. But as it was, he had just been a hair's breadth from the fatal edge of existence and his whole body ached with his renewed sense of mortality. It usually crept in through his aching joints, his dry and wrinkled skin, his slowly blurring vision. Today however, it had grabbed him by the collar, shaken him roughly about, and dropped him unmercifully back into stark reality.  
He was going to die.

It was going to be a cold, painful, lonely death. It could easily have been today. He prayed to whatever cruel deity was listening that he wouldn't meet his end at the immediate hands of his sadistic brother. Did the deity care? Or would it hideously watch as Liquid pulled his bowels from his body? He shuddered. Partly from the cleanly grotesque thoughts, partly from the cold stare still being directed his way.  
Earlier, his body had convulsed in the dry desert heat, pain had coursed through his veins. It had to have been those treacherous nanomachines, lying in wait in his bloodstream. There was nothing else like the feeling of utter helplessness. His body had turned on him and with his nemesis in his sights, the blinding pain had prevented him from fulfilling his heart's deepest desire: squeezing the trigger and sending that madman to hell where he belonged.  
He couldn't do it.

He was kept from pulling the trigger by his own traitorous body. Snake remembered passing into a merciful oblivion, unconscious to the dying PMC soldiers around him. Black. Then a dim hazy grey with nothing but silence surrounding him. Two soft, warm hands appeared next, caressing his forehead, brushing the hair from his face. The purgatory of dim light lasted until a sliver of lucidity wafted into his mind. Sound came next, and then pain. Pain all down his back, all through the veins in his arms and legs.  
_'Snake, are you okay? Welcome back to the living.'_ It was the light tenor of Otacon's voice, and the bright bell of their young ward. Eggs? Did Epyon want eggs? He must be hungry.  
Oh god, how he hated those eggs, offered to him at every opportunity. He was as sick of that nickname as he was disgusted with the idea of more eggs. If there was a hell, it would be occupied by Liquid and plates and plates of fried eggs. Eggs were the last thing on his mind and he told her so in the bluntest of terms, which just happened to be his personal nicest way of saying no. She had retreated to the kitchen and Otacon had treated him to a vocal and caustic disapproval.  
"Snake, do you always have to be so to the point?" The engineer's voice was tired and dry, trying to muster as much derision as possible into his tone after the day had used him up and worn him out.  
"I don't want any eggs, Otacon. What do you want me to say?"  
"You don't have to say it like that. You know she thinks the world of you." The soldier's face drew into a grimace.  
"Of me? Why would you encourage that, Otacon? You know I'm not... I shouldn't..."  
"Shouldn't what? _Be there_ for her?" Otacon pushed his glasses up his nose and fixed Snake with a piercing glare. "She's a little girl after all, Snake. You could at least take off your solider persona for her sake." It was Snake's turn to glare but his eyes held less venom. He knew Otacon was right, but couldn't bring himself to say so. Sunny was the innocent ray of light that shone into their dark world filled with conspiracy, deceit, and the worst types of betrayal. She was a magical gift from heaven. No, from a strong, courageous, determined woman whose own precious life had been cut tragically short. How could he not show her kindness? He bit his offending tongue, trying to take back the callous words he'd given her instead of gratitude. The world had taken so much from her and she was still so young. Who was he to add to her sorrow? How could he dim the bright smile that had lit up their lives? A heavy sigh passed through his lips.  
He had to make it right.

The soldier slowly pulled himself to his feet, the bones at the small of his back popping softly. God, it was miserable getting old. He stretched to his full height, enjoying the sensation of his muscles flexing. How much longer before his flesh fully failed him? For now, he could fight but... Even when he didn't think about it, the worry lay in wait in the back of his mind. Otacon turned back to his computer, typing away at a myriad of undecipherable projects. Snake could feel the engineer's gaze depart from the back of his head.

It wasn't in Snake's nature to apologize. Who in his sterile childhood had he the opportunity to wrong? There were no neighbours whose windows he'd broken in his errant youth. There had _been_ no errant youth. He'd never even broken a heart. Snake had his heart broken, but there was no apology in that except perhaps to himself, for losing his stoic cool. He had never had the urge to say 'I'm sorry' to the scores of men he had killed. It was an inevitable mortal doom, regardless of the exit method.  
Any flavour of apology was difficult for Snake to comprehend, so the thought was incapable of passing through his mind now. He felt remorse, but he couldn't form it into an idea, an action. His unshod feet touched the base of the metal stairs and he lifted his eyes to the top with trepidation. Sunny. He felt terrible now for casually rejecting her offer of eggs. She had made them herself with her sweet, tiny hands. His lips twitched in frustration. He really didn't want to go up into the kitchen, but felt utterly compelled to.  
One foot followed the other and he gradually made his way up the stairs. He didn't catch Otacon's eyes gazing at him in the periphery of his vision, a delicate and pleased smile gracing his face.

The upper level was separated, more or less, into five rooms. Off to the left, two storage rooms had been converted into bedrooms: one for Snake, one for Sunny. To the right, a bathroom and a partitioned off area that served as Otacon's sleeping quarters. When Sunny had become part of their lives, the otaku gladly converted his room into a bedroom suitable for a cute little girl, complete with pink bedsheets and Totoro plushies. Snake had sarcastically pointed out that the room had not changed perceptibly between owners, but now, as he glanced towards the cot half-hidden by a wall of surplus metal storage boxes, he wished _he_ had been the selfless one. The old soldier who had done nothing but take from people his whole life couldn't even be bothered to give up his bed for the sunbeam who had pierced their gloomy lives. He sighed haggardly and reached the top step.  
The kitchen occupied the largest area and was home to a modest range, a refrigerator, and two wash basins large enough to soak suits and harnesses after they had been stained from bloodshed. Most hours of the day, the kitchen was also occupied by their sweet little sunbeam. Sunny was sitting now on a crate that served as a booster step so she could reach the range, PSP in her hands, busily tackling that silly racing game with the green ogre. She was engrossed and didn't look up as Snake silently shuffled closer.  
"Sunny?" She deftly paused the game and looked straight up into the worried eyes of the solider, a piercing smile on her face. He was taken off guard at her pleasant demeanor. Hadn't she just stormed off less than 5 minutes ago? Granted, Sunny did not 'storm off', ever, but she had closed up, her small countenance growing cold and silent. Snake remembered the quietly angry way she had carried the rejected eggs back up to the kitchen. And now she was grinning at him like nothing had happened. His voice stopped in his mouth, unable to form the words his brain was struggling with. Could she be so quick to forgive? Or just quick to forget? "Sunny. I'm- I'm a bit hungry... Could you make me some eggs?" He didn't think it possible, but her eyebrows shot up and her smile grew even larger. But then, like a petulant spring rain shower, a playful and teasing look passed through her eyes.  
"Nuh-uh, what's the magic word?" Even Snake had to smirk at the laughing tone of her voice and the scolding finger waving up at him.  
"Please?"  
"Of course!" She switched off her game, tucking it into one of the large pockets in her cargo shorts, and turned her attention to the cupboards for a clean skillet.  
"Can I help?" Snake had already gathered a new carton of eggs from the fridge, but stood in front of the oven, uncertain. MREs he could handle, he could certainly cook meat in the field, cold cereal was within his repertoire... Eggs could be dealt with too, but in a coldly brutal way. As such, they never turned out right. He stood quietly, looking for guidance.  
"Sure! We'll need some margarine from the fridge." Sunny placed the skillet on the nearest burner and hopped down from her step-stool to fetch a flat spatula. When Snake offered the yellow tub to her, she remarked with a small smile on her face, "Margarine doesn't have cho-lesterol like butter."  
"No, but eggs do." He saw her face fall slightly, knowing well that she must have learned about the dangers of nicotine and cholesterol from one meddlesome otaku. "That's why they're so delicious." He gave her a small grin and she perked back up, beginning to crack eggs into the greased pan. A thoughtful look crossed her face as she watched the whites run across the hot surface.  
"Here, I'll show you, Epyon!" Sunny held the spatula out to Snake, who looked as terrified as if he'd been caught in the crosshairs of a sniper's scope. He swiftly shook his head no. "It's easy, I can teach you!" The earnest look in her eyes melted his heart and he cautiously took the implement from her hands.  
Snake began attacking the eggs, still in gel form, with sharp swift motions. Little half-formed pieces began sticking to the spatula and to the sides of the pan.  
"No, no, no. Here..." Sunny quickly grabbed his arm, folding herself in between Snake and the stove, directing his motions with her hand on the cuff of his sleeve. "Got to wait for the eggs to cook. Got to be patient." The spatula moved to the outside of the skillet, scraping gently under the edges, reading them to be turned. Her hand moved down to rest gently on the back of his, and together, they flipped the sizzling mass in one smooth motion. "See! You've got it now!" Sunny was supremely pleased with herself and continued to use Snake's hand to push the eggs around the pan, a bright grin on her face.  
Deep in his chest, his heart clenched tightly. He hadn't apologized in words, but she'd forgiven him regardless. The regret and guilt that perched behind his eyes suddenly evaporated and he was overtaken by a warmth that started in his hands, where his angel touched him, and flowed swiftly through his whole body.  
His angel? When had he given her that title? The cynical thought entered his mind but just as swiftly he pushed it away. She was special. Sunny was nothing short of a magical gift that he certainly didn't deserve. As the eggs finished cooking, she began humming the nameless song that she often sang while cooking. Snake was overcome with an emotion he couldn't quite place. Instead of dwelling on it, or kicking it roughly out of his mind, he leaned down gently and placed a soft kiss on top of her golden hair.

********

Author's note: Who wants to guess at that feeling Snake is overcome by?  
Fifty points to anyone who said paternal love. ;)


End file.
